


Letters of Love

by mandysimo13



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, Fluff, Kissing, Love Letters, M/M, Murder Husbands, Sort Of, Tumblr Prompt, mild depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 12:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: When someone dares to mock Hannibal and Will's love for each other, they soon will discover just how deep their affection goes.





	Letters of Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is yet another awesome prompt from theycantstopthesignal on tumblr! Hope you all enjoy!

A muffled scream made Hannibal grimace. 

“I don’t know why they insist on doing that this early in the game,” he remarked in a bored voice. “It should be fairly obvious we’re underground and in a very well insulated dwelling.”

“He’s frightened, Hannibal. An emotion that you know very acutely, even if you rarely show it to others,” Will explained needlessly. He handed Hannibal his scalpel with a fond smile. 

“But my dear Will,” Hannibal explained, testing the scalpel on a slice of paper. It sliced cleanly and quickly and the bound, gagged, and shirtless man in front of them struggled harder, his eyes widening in terror. The man in question was a Mister Julian Garrick. His crime, spouting homophobic remarks at them while they perused a new butcher shop.  _Julian Garrick’s_  butcher shop.  _Ethical butcher, indeed,_  Hannibal scoffed internally. “I at least had the good sense to save my energy for an opportune moment to escape. One must never rely on outside forces for rescue.”

He reached out with his free hand to touch Will’s face. “You, of all people, know that quite well.”

Will leaned into the touch, reaching out blindly for his own scalpel. “Says the man who so often came to my rescue.”

“Only after I put you in danger,” Hannibal said, remorse in his voice.

“Hey now,” Will chided softly. He pressed a small kiss to Hannibal’s lips. “None of that now. That’s all behind us.”

He moved from Hannibal’s loose hold and closed the distance between himself and their plaything for the evening. “I believe it’s my turn first, seeing as you went first last time.”

Hannibal smirked and twirled his scalpel in his hand, taking a step toward their victim. “I didn’t know we were keeping track.” He crouched in front of the petrified man and went to undo the gag muffling his pitiful noises.

“Not exactly keeping track. More, remarking on the back and forth order we’ve developed.” He pointed at Julian and asked, “if they were to find him, what do you think they’d call this killer? Do you think they’d scent us in the aftermath? Send in the bloodhound, Jack Crawford, to come sniffing around our door?”

“Hmm, that is food for thought. Perhaps we can compose an adequate answer once we’ve completed our new work of art.” He directed his next words to Julian, “you can scream if you want to. Doubtless it will be unavoidable, but please, don’t feel the need to stifle yourself on our account. Far be it from us to stifle the creative process as one moves from one stage to another. Metamorphosis, in its own way.”

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” Garrick spat back, spittle dripping from his lips in anger. 

“A very typical response, Mister Garrick,” Will said, crouching low behind him, scaring the man anew by his sudden presence so close to his ear. “That’s the kind of thinking that got you into this situation in the first place. Hannibal isn’t exactly a psychopath. Nor is he a sociopath. He just doesn’t have any inhibitions. He does as he pleases, waiting for the world to unfold and ripple around his actions as they may regardless of consequence. He has empathy, compassion, and feelings. He just doesn’t care about yours.” His voice turned into a low growl as he added, “and seeing as your feelings make you a homophobic fuck, I can’t say I disagree with him at this particular moment.” 

“Such eloquence,” Hannibal teased. 

“Being around you has the tendency to turn one into a poet,” Will remarked shyly. “Perhaps one day I might sound like someone halfway decent.”

“Nonsense,” Hannibal said happily. “I thought that was very well worded, Will.”

Julian, feeling left out, piped up. “Just let me out of here and I won’t say a fucking word! You’ll be free, and so will I! Win, win!”

“I think we have come too far for that, haven’t we Mister Garrick?” Hannibal asked rhetorically. Neither of them had any intention of letting the man go. He looked to Will and said, “you expressed a desire to go first. Please,” he gestured to the expanse of naked skin before Will, “indulge yourself.”

“My pleasure,” Will said with a sincere smile before carefully carving into Garrick’s back.

“Fuck! Stop!” Garrick screamed, struggling to break away from Will’s handiwork. 

Hannibal held him fast and still, giving Will a mostly still canvas in which to paint with his scalpel. “I did not give you permission to move,” he told Garrick coldly. “I only said that you may scream. No more than that.”

And scream, he did, as Will carved the first piece into his skin. The more that Will worked, the more Garrick screamed, even if they became weaker with pained exhaustion. At times Will paused, thinking over carefully the next cuts he would put into his blank canvas. Slowly, agonizingly slowly for Julian Garrick, Will’s piece came to fruition and he nodded to Hannibal that he was finished. He dropped his scalpel on the floor and wiped sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand. 

“It’s done. I can’t wait for you to see it,” he told Hannibal with a loving smile.

“I cannot wait to see it,” Hannibal assured him. He looked down at Garrick and frowned. “It seems our guest has rudely passed out. It seems that your work has sent him into shock.” He looked up at Will, “what’s to be done about that?”

Will slapped Garrick’s face a few times until the man sputtered back to life. He groaned weakly and whispered, “puh-please, just,” he wheezed before continuing, “just let me leave.” His eyes watered, crying from pain and fear.

“We’re only halfway done, Mister Garrick. It would be a shame for you to miss the rest of the festivities.” He held up his own scalpel, waggling it in warning, and said, “now don’t move.”

With that, he began carving his own marks into Garrick’s chest. Garrick was too far gone for screaming. Instead, fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he sobbed, begging to be released. 

Will squeezed him tighter, wrenching his head back by his hair. “If you don’t stop blubbering and hyperventilating, you might ruin his design. And if you do that,” he clicked his tongue in annoyance, “well, we’ll just have to devise a punishment. Won’t we, dear?”

“You mean this isn’t punishment enough?!”

“Oh, this is punishment,” Hannibal agreed. “But for just one sin. Damaging art would require something more,” he paused, grinning at Will, “creative.”

Will chuckled and held Garrick still while Hannibal continued to work. Eventually, he passed out again but that was just fine to Hannibal. They had made their point. 

At long last, he added a final flourish and smiled up at Will. “I’m finished.”

Will leaned over, uncaring of how blood smeared his clothes, and kissed Hannibal’s lips sweetly. “Let’s get the buckets. Wash off the excess so we can see what we wrote to each other.”

They stood together, leaving Garrick slumped on his knees, struggling to breathe and fading in and out of consciousness while they retrieved the next part of their design. They each carried a pail full of water over to Mister Garrick and unceremoniously began pouring them over his raw body. 

Immediately he jolted into full wakefulness. He screamed, flailing, trying to stand but unable to on the slippery floor. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Washing away the excess blood so that we might see what we wrote on your skin,” Hannibal explained.

“In what, acid?!” Garrick demanded.

“Nothing so dramatic,” Hannibal said with a smirk. “Only salt water.”

“With the approximate salinity of the Dead Sea.”

Garrick whimpered, hugging his body to try and soothe his pains. His arms were wrenched sharply from his body by Will as he knelt to inspect Hannibal’s words. Hannibal assisted, taking Will’s previous place at Garrick’s back. 

“Shall I read aloud?” Hannibal asked. Without waiting for an answer he began. 

“ _Hannibal, my unforeseen design. I could have never, in an age, predicted what fate had in store for me in you. I am glad, cuz I would’ve run for the hills for sure. Despite that, thank you for chasing me, reaching back, and being patient with requital. I love you. Will <3″_

Hannibal’s eyes misted over and he had to immediately kiss Will, heedless of the man sandwiched between them.

“I take it you liked it,” Will asked needlessly.

“Very much so.” He kissed him once more and said, “now, it is your turn.” 

Will cleared his throat and began to read.

“ _Will, from the start you have captivated, amused, confused, and aroused me in a million ways. You have buried yourself into my head, heart, the very marrow of my being. May you never unroot yourself, for I find myself very much at peace with you inside and beside me. Aš tave myliu.”_

Will beamed and reached over to return Hannibal’s previous kiss. “You’re such a sap.”

“Guilty as charged,” Hannibal agreed.

“Did-” Garrick choked out between them. “Did you faggots just write love letters to each other on me?!” He tried to shove out from between them. “You’re so fucked up! You’re so fucked up!”

Hannibal frowned, letting him squirm away, knowing he wouldn’t get far. “Clearly, you have learned nothing.”

“Still unseeing of our true devotion to each other, even when its written into your skin.” Will caught Hannibal’s gaze with a wry smile. “Though, he’s not entirely wrong. We are a little fucked in the head.”

Hannibal returned his gaze. “Perhaps.” They rose together, slowly following the crawling Mister Garrick as he tried to escape their cellar. “Come now, let’s finish what we started. Then you can walk the dogs while I prepare dinner.”

Will kissed him. “Sounds like a plan.”

Later, after Mister Garrick had been dispatched with and set to curing as a new batch of sausages, after dinner and dog walking, Hannibal and Will laid in bed wrapped in each other’s arms. 

“I think I have an idea of what Jack would call us,” Will said sleepily.

“Is that so?”

Will chuckled, nuzzling into Hannibal’s neck. “The Bloody Scribes.”

Hannibal frowned. “How distasteful. Sounds like something Freddie would cook up.”

Will yawned and nodded in agreement. “She’d love that. A shame she’ll never see it.”

“I blessing, I think you mean,” Hannibal replied. 

After such an emotional day, it didn’t take long for them both to drift off into a blissful sleep, content in each other’s arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Aš tave myliu - Lithuanian, "I love you" 
> 
> (fair warning: I did use google translate, so if this is not correct, please let me know and I'll edit it with the correct translation.)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, guys! As always, comments and kudos are welcome and encouraged! <3


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